


As you were and as you are now

by DarkmoonSigel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Biblical References, Biblical Reinterpretation, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 03:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonSigel/pseuds/DarkmoonSigel
Summary: Crowley overthinking. Sweet and light as angel food cake.Yeah, I’m back on my bullshit. Loaded up from my phone so I’ll fix any errors later.





	As you were and as you are now

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not dead. My health isn’t good, but I’m doing my best to stay above ground.

Crowley did not hold any titles in Hell. He didn’t want one. Having a title meant you were in charge of something, and he had already been there and done that, thank you very much.

He had been the archangel Raphael after all, in charge of healing, responsible for doctors, happy meetings, insanity, and lovers just to name a few things he used to care about. Look at where having a title had gotten him. One afternoon of kicking it with Lucifer and the boys had turned into a million mile an hour free fall that ended in a lake of boiling sulfur. To add insult to injury, Crowley had lost his title to another angel who had his old name and responsibilities now. An angel of healing had to reside in Heaven. 

So yeah, no titles. Nothing can be taken away from you if you have nothing for the bastards to take. For the most part, Crowley liked keeping things simple. 

Meandering through Azirphale’s bookshop to help glare at any lingering customers, Crowley observed that his angel would never let this life of theirs get too simple though. The bookshop was proof enough of that, its shelves brimming with books and many other versions of literature, scrolls crammed into any available space that wasn’t book size. 

Been a while since he had thought about all that, but surviving the End of Days apparently stirred up some memories, and even more so, observations. One of them being that Azirphale hadn’t recognized him when they supposedly met for the first time up on the Garden’s wall. They had met before in Heaven though Crowley had looked much different then. So had Azirphale, the Principality having once been a Cherubim, until he gave away his flaming sword. 

Not that Aziraphale was aware that Crowley knew all that about him. He also never showed off his second pair of wings. Crowley wondered if he still had them or all four faces, or if God had changed up the celestial‘s form to match the demotion. She hadn’t made much of a fuss about the demotion really. Every angel just simply knew that in one moment Aziraphale was a Cherubim, and then in the next, he wasn’t anymore. They just didn’t know why, and Aziraphale had never felt the need to tell them. It bothered the hell out of Gabriel and Michael to no end. 

He wondered what Aziraphale would say if he ever let his other two pairs of wings slip out some time. Crowley was struck by how much he wanted to show the angel them now that they were on their own. He was actually quite fond of his second pair, the feathers of those wings in vibrant shades of red. The bottom pair was as black as his top pair.

A fair amount of explaining would have to be done, something that Crowley wasn’t exactly sure if he were up for just yet. He needed to test the waters before springing that surprise on his angel. Crowley never got tired of that, his angel, for Aziraphale was his, now and forever. 

Coming to think about it some more, Crowley realized that in all their time together, Aziraphale had never once asked what his angelic name had been before the Fall, not even poking around for one little hint of it. 

The demon tried not to be bothered by that, but the more he tried not to, the more he was until Crowley was thoroughly and completely bothered. 

“Oi, why haven’t you ever asked me what my real name is?” Crowley asked out of the blue. Testing the waters had never been his style anyway.

“Because it’s not polite to inquire about something so sensitive and personal. I assumed that if you felt like telling me that you would, but in your own time.” Aziraphale said after regarding the other for a moment, his face carefully blank. Instead of saying anymore, he busied himself closing up the shop for the night. Breaking out some very good scotch, Azirphale poured a few fingers for them both. 

And there it was, the reason, a perfectly Azirphale kind of response. 

“You’re really too good for this world, angel.” Crowley smiled, taking off his sunglasses before accepting the tumbler. “Haven’t you ever wondered?”

“What brought this all about?” Aziraphale asked instead. 

“Rude to answer a question with a question.” Crowley pointed out, feeling a bit crestfallen. There was no backing out of this now though, especially when he was the one who had brought it up. 

“No.”

“No? Not even a little?” Crowley pressed, the angel’s answer like a skimming kick to the nuts, meaning it hurt more than it really should have.

“No, not at first. Not for the first five thousand years or so at least.” Azirphale sighed as he watched Crowley try not to look sad about it. “Please don’t look so disappointed. I didn’t want to know in case I knew you before your Fall from grace. I didn’t know if I could handle missing that old you, the one I would never get back. It was easier to get to know this new you, the one that would be staying.”

“So you don’t want to know it.” Crowley said, reaching for more scotch. His hand was caught up into an exquisitely manicured pair though.

“I want to know everything there is to know about you, my dearest one.” Azirphale said with such conviction and utter love that if Crowley wasn’t already hopelessly in love with the soppy angel, this would have been the moment he’d known he was. 

“Oh my...” was all Azirphale could muster up when three pair of wings sprang into existence, crowding the shop. “Raphael...” Not too many archangels had fallen, and Azirphale had always been clever. 

“Not anymore. They gave that away to someone else.” Crowley snorted, finishing the scotch for the benefits of liquid courage. 

“I should have known. Your eyes stayed the same.” Azirphale said, sounding very disappointed in himself. “Well, mostly.”

“No, they didn’t. In case you’ve missed it for the last bloody 6,000 years, I’ve had snake eyes.” Crowley growled, making sure to lean in for maximum eye contact, losing the wings to change into a giant snake so that he could properly match. 

“You’ve always had kind eyes. That has never changed.” Azirphale said, leaning in the rest of the way to kiss the tip of Crowley’s snoot. Reptiles can’t blush, but Crowley definitely made an effort to do just that.

“You and that four letter word again. Tell the whole world, why don’t you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Your comments get kicked of the bookshop by a strange man in sunglasses. Your kudos get glared at for attempting to buy a book by the owner.


End file.
